Five Times Peter Cried in front of Tony Stark
by psychofeelings
Summary: ... and the one time he didn't. OR... Five times Peter cried in front of Tony Stark, and the one time Tony lost it in front of the kid.
1. Chapter 1

Peter always dreaded when Monday rolled around after a fantastic weekend because Monday meant school, and school meant having to deal with Flash.

Lately Flash had increased his methods for picking on Peter as the school year was coming to an end and Flash would be graduating in just a few short weeks. Instead of just the casual "_Penis Parker!_" he'd yell in the hallway, he recently started to physically push Peter around and push his buttons more than he did before. He especially pushed his buttons about the so called "Stark Internship".

Just last week the media caught sight of Tony and Peter out for dessert at a local ice cream shop not far from Peter's apartment. The two thought they'd be safe from any reporters desperate for a story since they ventured out from Stark Tower-technically Avengers tower, but seeing as the only avenger currently residing in the tower is Tony Stark, the old name still fits.

The next morning a picture of them together was on every single newspaper in the city, and on every single news station with the title: _Tony Stark, Secret Father? _

Of course, anyone close to Peter and Tony dismissed the story as false, but that didn't mean the kids at his school did. Particularly Flash.

Today he felt the need to bring a copy of the article along with a stack of fake money, and throw it at Peter in the hallway. "Hey, _Penis,_" Flash hissed as Peter started brushing the fake bills off his head and shoulders. "How much did you pay Tony Stark to take you out for ice cream?"

Peter's brows furrowed and he clenched his fists at his side. Opening his mouth to respond to the bully, he was shocked when Flash continued to speak.

"Is that even the real Tony Stark, or is it just a look alike?" he pulled the paper up to his face to glance at the picture before continuing. "It's hard to tell by this picture. Maybe next time you should shell out the big bucks so people actually know it's him."

At this point, Peter was furious, though he knew he should just let it go and walk away. Giving into Flash's comments only edged him on more. "Leave me alone, Flash," he finally spat out as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder, preparing to leave.

He wasn't surprised when Flash stepped in front of him, preventing his exit. "Why didn't you just have your aunt take you for ice cream? Or did you just miss having a daddy? With what happened to your uncle and all, doesn't it eat you up inside knowing you replaced him with Tony Stark?" Flash smirked at the almost immediate response that showed on Peter's face.

Peter had never been this angry at someone in his life. No one talked about his uncle that way. No one had the right to talk about his family like that. And no one had the right to place the fault on himself-except for himself. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up," Peter snapped after what felt like hours of attempting to push away the urge to beat the shit out of Flash. Instead he opted for a simple shove. Nothing too hard, but not too soft that Flash would make an easy comeback. Reaching his hands out and placing them on Flash's shoulders, he shoved the slightly shorter boy out of his way and into the nearest row of lockers.

Flash's back connected with the lockers with a sickening _crash_. All eyes were on Peter as he threw his hood over his head and continued on his way towards the main exit.

* * *

Once Peter was out the main doors and descending down the steps, he only lifted his head slightly to look for Happy's car.

That was their routine now. After everything that happened with the Vulture fiasco at the beginning of the school year, Tony instructed Happy to pick Peter up from school every day. A few days of the week Peter would spend at the Tower, and the other day's he simply went home to work on his homework, or go on patrol.

Today was supposed to be a Tower day, but after what happened, correction, what was just said to him, he just wanted to go home and not come out for a few hours.

Slipping into the backseat of the signature Audi a8 that Happy drives, he didn't say a word to the man in the front seat who was definitely staring at him. Peter couldn't bear the silence anymore so he finally spoke up without looking up. "Um, hey, Happy. Look, I know today is a Tower day, but-"

"What did they say to you this time?" Happy interrupted, having enough knowledge on the kids that bullied Peter pretty much every day.

Peter looked up slowly before attempting to dismiss all accusations. "What? Nothing. I just don't feel good and would rather just go home than get Mr. Stark sick," he tried to lie and he knew it was a bad attempt when he felt his cheeks start to burn, so he directed his attention back to a small thread hanging off the end of his sleeve.

"Peter, I'm not blind. I know there's a group of kids who bully you everyday, but you refuse to tell Tony," Happy informed the sulking teenager in his backseat. When Peter had yet to look up from the seemingly interesting string, Happy had no choice but to say what he should've said a long time ago. "Kid, if you don't tell Tony what's going on, I will."

And just like that Peter's head shot up and he was pleading with Happy. "Please don't, Happy. Please. I'm fine, really. I can handle a dumb high school bully. I'm Spider-Man after all," he forced a slight smile to please his chauffeur.

For a second Peter thought Happy was actually going to give in and let him handle his own problems. That changed the second Happy turned around and put the car into drive. "Sorry, kid. If Tony found out about this and the fact that I hid it from him, I would be out of a job," he apologised over his shoulder without looking back, afraid he'd regret his decision if he caught sight of the puppy dog eyes.

* * *

The drive from Peter's school to the Tower was a relatively short drive, but today it felt like hours. His mind raced back and forth with different excuses he could make, different lies he could tell, or different ways to change the subject.

There was no way he was going to make it to Tony's private floor and not have the subject brought up. He wouldn't be surprised if Happy already sent Tony a heads up.

Stepping out of the car, Peter mumbled a goodbye to Happy as he grabbed his bag and stomped towards the elevator. This was so not fair. He was Spider-Man. He shouldn't have to resort to dumping his problems on Tony Stark. If he'd even care.

He pushed the up button to the elevator and stepped inside once the doors opened. He rolled his eyes when the voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y. filled the small elevator. "Good afternoon, Mr. Parker. Tony is waiting for you in his Lounge," she informed him before sending the elevator to the desired floor.

"Yeah, 'course he is," Peter grumbled under his breath.

The elevator didn't take more than a minute to reach Mr. Stark's private floor which caused Peter to let out another grumble about taking the stairs next time as he walked into the… empty living room? That's not right. F.R.I.D.A.Y. specifically said Mr. Stark would be waiting for him, so where exactly was he?

"Mr. Stark?" Peter called out, glancing around the living area combined with the kitchen. "Mr. Stark? I'm here to work on my suit."

Peter couldn't help the involuntary jump when Mr. Stark spoke up behind him. "Ah, Peter. Sorry about that, F.R.I.D.A.Y. was supposed to let me know when you arrived. Which she failed to do." Peter raised an eyebrow when he watched as Mr. Stark looked up towards the ceiling and glared.

Dropping his backpack to the floor, Peter knew this would be his only attempt at an escape. "If you don't mind, Mr. Stark, I'm gonna use the restroom before we start working on my suit," he hesitated before trying to slip past Mr. Stark.

Tony rolled his eyes which wouldn't have been picked up by Peter as he was wearing his usual tinted glasses. He simply reached a hand out and grabbed Peter by the shoulder, ruining his feeble attempt to flee. "Not so fast, kid. I do believe we have something to talk about."

With a small huff, Peter stopped putting up a fight and allowed himself to be led to a couch in the living room. "Look, Mr. Stark. Whatever Happy told you isn't true. He likes to blow things out of proportion and assume I can't take care of myself," he stammered.

An eyebrow shot up above Tony's tinted lense and he sure was interested in where this conversation was heading. The only thing Happy told him lately was when Peter gushed about his grades. In particular, when Peter went on and on and on about getting the highest grade in his robotics class for their semester project of building a fully functional robot to be sent off to compete against schools from around the country. That was what this conversation was originally going to be about. A small celebration of sorts, but now Tony was much more interested in whatever Happy was "lying" about. "Well then. Tell me your side of the story. What happened?"

Peter sighed. Of course he was going to have to go over this. Might as well skip anything unimportant. Oh wait. That's everything. "Nothing, Mr. Stark. Really. It's just a kid at my school who thinks it's okay to talk bad to people." At the sight of Mr. Stark preparing to argue with him over a bully being nothing, Peter continued. "I can handle it, Mr. Stark. Besides, he uses the same insult every time. It's starting to get boring," he lied. He hoped Mr. Stark wasn't able to see the anger that flashed in his eyes at the thought of what Flash told him today.

"A school bully isn't nothing, Peter," Tony started and put a hand up when the young boy wanted to disagree. "I don't care if you think you can handle it. It's not okay for you to put up with it so he thinks it's okay."

At that comment Peter turned his head and looked away from Tony. He started fiddling with the small string again, at least the string couldn't tell him how to live his life.

"What's that?" Tony questioned, and Peter wasn't sure how to answer without looking up from the string and having to make eye contact. What Peter wasn't expecting, though, was for his hood to be shoved off his head and a hand digging into the hood.

"Hey! What are you-" Peter faltered at the sight of what Tony was now holding. What he had dug out of his hood. A fake $100 bill. He went silent as Tony inspected the piece of paper as if it could blow up at any second. And almost as if a switch was flipped in his head, Flash's words were playing on repeat.

_Why didn't you just have your aunt take you for ice cream? Or did you just miss having a daddy? With what happened to your uncle and all, doesn't it eat you up inside knowing you replaced him with Tony Stark? _

Peter couldn't help the sniffles that followed. He didn't replace Ben. He could never replace the man who raised him. Not even Tony Stark could fill the aching hole that's been in his heart since the day he died.

Without realizing it, suddenly Peter was sobbing. Tears began to roll down his cheeks and he couldn't stop them. He raised a shaky hand to his face, ready to wipe away the tears and man up in front of Tony Stark.

Instead, Tony grabbed Peter by the shoulders and pulled him in close. "Kid, it's okay. I'm right here. Just let it out," he comforted the crying boy as he ran his fingers through his hair gently to calm him down.

"Th-They.. They think I-I.. that I pay you.. that I pay you to.. to hang out with me," Peter told Tony in between his sobs as he tried to catch his breath.

Tony looked down at the teenager who was currently having a breakdown in his arms. It hurt him to know that there were kids out there tormenting Peter on a daily basis just because he hung out with him. "Let them think whatever the hell they want. They're not going to get anywhere in life belittling you for having the coolest job in the goddamn world."

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes after that. Peter was trying to control his breathing and stop his sobs all together, and Tony was thinking of a way to stick it to the kids that were putting Peter through hell everyday.

Finally Peter felt in control of his emotions enough to pull away from his resting position on Tony's chest and wipe at his runny nose. He glanced up to thank him for the comfort before his eyes drifted over Tony's shirt that was now soaking wet and covered in snot. "Mr. Stark, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to break down like that. Really, I didn't."

Tony looked down to where Peter was currently staring. It wasn't a big deal though. "Don't worry about it, Pete. It's just a shirt. It can be washed," he assured the kid so he would stay calm. Of course, this shirt was actually ruined, but he would just buy another one instead of upsetting him even more.

Peter suddenly jumped up from the couch and was scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. "I should go, Mr. Stark. I'm sorry for being such a bother. I'll just let myself out," he rambled as he started to grab all his stuff.

"What? Are you kidding?" Tony questioned without it actually being a question and reached for Peter's arm. "We haven't even gotten to the real reason I called you here today."

Peter froze. Real reason? Was there something he missed on his way up the elevator? "What.. what do you mean?"

A smirk grew across Tony's face and he knew the kid would be embarrassed now. "I wanted to congratulate you on winning your robotics competition. This was supposed to be a celebration, not an interrogation."

He was gonna kill him. Plain and simple. Peter was gonna kill Happy for making an ass out of himself.

But he figured that could wait. For now he wanted to spend some quality time with his mentor and hero Tony Stark.


	2. Chapter 2

Lately, Peter had been spending most of his free time at the tower. At first he was surprised Tony even wanted him to spend more time with him after the breakdown that happened about a month ago, but after he spent more time with Tony he started to realize just how much the billionaire was starting to care for him.

It started off small, with Tony personally picking him up from school every once in a while. He claimed it was just to give Happy a break from driving the kid around, but Peter knew the real reason Tony was doing it.

After a couple days of Tony picking Peter up from school, Happy was back to his normal chauffour position. Of course, Peter was bummed when he first walked out the school doors and saw Happy's simple black audi sitting in the pick up lane as opposed to Tony's bright orange audi, but that feeling quickly dissipated when he opened the backseat door and noticed Tony was sitting on the other side. He tried to hide the small smile that formed on his face as he climbed into the car.

Opting to ignore the obvious smile plastered across the young boy's face, Tony turned towards him slightly. "So, I heard from May that you broke your phone a couple nights ago on patrol," he started and watched the poor kid's smile fade and his shoulders slump, obviously ashamed of the action.

"It's no big deal, Mr. Stark. May picked up some extra shifts at work to help pay for a new one. It'll only be about a week," he explained without looking up. He thought back to how upset May looked when he had to break the news to her that he'd dropped his phone from the top of a building the other day. Of course, he didn't exactly tell her he was recording a video as he swung from rooftop to rooftop when he almost lost his grip on his web and had to readjust with his other hand, dropping his phone in the process. But hey, at least it was his phone and not himself that hit the pavement.

Peter let the memory fade as he noticed Tony moving. Looking out of the corner of his eye he watched as Tony bent forward and picked a small box up off the ground. He sat the little black box on his lap and Peter finally picked his head up.

Tony pulled his tinted glasses off his face and put them in his jacket pocket once Peter was finally looking at him again. "I figured it wouldn't be a wise decision for you to go a whole week without a phone, so I got you a little something." He picked the small box up and held it out for Peter to take.

Hesitantly, Peter reached forward and took the small box from Tony's grip. He placed the box on his thigh and slowly pulled the lid off, revealing a brand new Stark™ Phone. His jaw immediately dropped and he turned back to Tony. "Are you.. Are you sure, Mr. Stark? I don't want you to feel like you have to give me this. I was the idiot who dropped my phone," he stammered, clearly shocked at the gift.

"I wanted to give it to you, Pete," Tony explained. "It's the brand new model. Hasn't even been announced yet. I figured you'd be willing to try it out and give me some feedback."

The grin that was previously on Peter's face made a return and he pulled the phone out of the box. It was such a sleek device. All black, except for the silver Stark logo above the screen. "Thank you, Mr. Stark. I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it, kid. Just try not to drop this one from a building," he simply smirked when Peter turned to defend himself.

As if the new phone wasn't a prime example of Tony starting to care for Peter, how much time he was spending with the boy was.

If Peter wasn't at school or patrolling, he was usually found at the Tower. Sometimes he'd be working with Tony in the lab upgrading his suit, sometimes he'd use his time with the genius to get some homework help, and sometimes he spent the night when he was too tired to make his way back to his apartment after an exhausting patrol.

Today started off as a lab day. Happy drove Peter straight to the Tower after school like he did most days, and Peter all but ran through the lobby to the elevator.

The previous night Tony had told Peter he had some brilliant ideas for the Spider-Man suit, but he had to work them out a little and he wanted them to be a surprise.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Parker," FRIDAY spoke up once the overly excited teenager made it into the elevator.

"Hi, FRIDAY. Can you take me to the lab please? Mr. Stark said we'd work on some surprise upgrades to my suit," he told the AI with a grin from ear to ear.

"Of course, Mr. Parker. Tony is currently on his way to the lab as well."

If physically possible, Peter's smile grew even wider. He couldn't wait to see what Tony had in store for his suit.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Peter took off running in the direction of the lab. He looked through the glass walls that separated the hallway from the lab and saw Tony sitting at his computer.

Without waiting for approval from FRIDAY or for Tony to notice him, Peter reached forward and pulled the glass door open. "I'm ready to work on my suit like you said we would," he announced his presence to the man currently hunched over his computer.

Peter frowned when Tony didn't look up from his work. _Hm. Maybe he didn't hear me _, Peter thought to himself as he stepped closer to Tony. "Mr. Stark? I brought my suit with me. You said you had some surprise upgrades," he spoke cautiously as he glanced over Tony's shoulder to see the computer screen. All Peter could make out was something about Captain America and the other fugitives Cap took with him after the accords fiasco last year. "Mr. Stark?"

Tony snapped his head up from where he was currently engrossed in the screen. He lowered his head into his hands once he noticed peter standing there. "Sorry, not today, kid," he mumbled through his hands.

"Oh," Peter murmured, not expecting Tony to blow him off. "Are you sure? I was thinking about some changes we could make to-"

"I said not right now! What don't you get about that, kid?" Tony questioned after he yelled as he turned back to his computer.

With his back now turned to Peter, he didn't see all the color drain from the boy's face, and the look of fear that was now frozen on his face at his words.

_Peter sulked through the front door to his apartment. Of course the day his Uncle Ben decided to pick him up from school was the very same day Flash decided to trip Peter on his way down the school steps._

_Ben wasn't mad per say that Peter had been getting bullied for years and refused to tell either of them. He was just upset that the bully was stooping so low to attack someone almost two grades lower._

_Once the two of them made it back to the apartment, Ben decided he would pay Flash's dad a visit. It didn't take much coaxing to get his address out of Peter as he was trying to avoid any trouble with his uncle._

"_Ben, please don't. I can handle him. I swear!" Peter yelled as his uncle was ready to walk back out of the apartment._

"_Now's not the time for this conversation, Peter. We'll talk more when I get back," Ben told him sternly on his way out._

_Peter stepped forward and before the door could fully shut, he stuck his foot in the gap. "Please, Ben. Please."_

"_I said not now!" Ben turned back towards his nephew and yelled, a little too loudly for his liking. "I'll be back shortly, and May won't be long."_

_There wasn't an opportunity for Peter to argue anymore with his uncle before the door was slammed on his face and he was left alone in their small apartment._

_Peter raced to his bedroom, opening the window and crawling out. His newfound spider powers being put to good use._

_He followed behind Ben with his hood hiding his face and his hands shoved deep in his pockets to avoid the cold air. He made sure to stay far enough behind to not be spotted, but he wasn't close enough to warn him as the masked man came running out of the dark alleyway. Some commotion occurred between the two before a loud bang echoed in the small city street and Ben collapsed to the ground. Peter yelled out instinctively and sprinted to his uncle._

_Peter dropped to the ground by his uncle's side as tears began to well up in his eyes. He should've seen this coming. He should've been able to stop it. What good were his new powers if he couldn't even protect his own uncle?_

_He stared at his uncle's motionless body in shock as the tears in his eyes finally found enough momentum to cascade down his cheeks._

_Suddenly Peter felt a pair of hands grab at his shoulders and he feared the gunman wanted to eliminate the witness. Rage sparked inside of him and he pushed at whoever was trying to grab him. " _Don't touch me!" _He yelled out at the same time, hoping someone would hear his scream. He needed help. He wasn't strong enough to do this alone._

_The assumed gunman spoke up after Peter shoved him away, _"Kid, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," _but Peter didn't believe him._

_No one was coming for him. Peter was all alone with his uncle's unusually still body, and he really thought it was over for him._

_His chest began to ache as tears continued to rush down his face. Ben was never this quiet. He was always joking and saying something to keep the mood up, seeing him so silent sent a chill down Peter's spine._

"Kid, you have to breathe."

_Peter hadn't realized he wasn't breathing. Maybe that's why his chest ached. As he sat there, coming to the realization that his uncle was never going to wake up, he didn't bother stopping his hand from being moved and placed on something warm, like someone's chest. " _Take a breath, Peter. Just follow my breaths. Please, Peter. You're scaring me," _the voice pleaded with him._

_The pain in his lungs was becoming unbearable and Peter followed the voice's instructions and took a shaky breath._

"There you go, now focus on my voice, kid. You're having a panic attack."

_A panic attack? Is that why it feels so real? Peter questioned as he dropped from his knees into a seated position on the concrete._

"Come on, Peter. Follow my breaths," _the soothing voice told him to do, and he listened. He felt wherever his hand was rise and fall rhythmically, and he copied the rhythm._

After what felt like the most stressful three minutes of Tony's life, Peter seemed to calm down, except for a few sobs here and there, but for the most part he was back to reality. "Hey, it's okay," he comforted the boy who now looked extremely small in his position curled against Tony's chest. Tony found his way to the floor not long after Peter dropped to his knees at the beginning of his panic attack.

"You.. You sounded like.. Like Ben when you yelled," Peter wept into Tony's chest.

In that moment, Tony had never felt like more of an asshole. Not only had he yelled at the poor kid, he'd triggered some memory the kid had with his now deceased uncle. "I'm so sorry, Peter. I didn't mean to."

Surprisingly, Peter let out a small chuckle that was muffled slightly from his awkward position. "It's okay, Mr. Stark. It's not like you knew that was one of the last things Ben said to me before," another sob, "before he died."

Tony eyes widened and he stiffened. Now he'd really fucked up. Not only did he cause the poor kid's panic attack, he triggered the kid's last memory of his uncle. Without saying another word, he pulled Peter in tighter and didn't let go until the kid was ready.

* * *

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Peter finally piped up after he'd completely calmed down. He pushed himself off of Tony's chest and into a seated position where he could use his sleeve to wipe at the dried tears on his cheeks.

Tony watched with a sad smile. He felt like the worst person on the planet. In that moment that he yelled, he hadn't thought much of what he'd said at the time. That was, until he heard a _thud _and he turned to find Peter kneeling on the ground, with tears streaming down his cheeks, unable to catch his breath.

He'd easily recognized it was a panic attack and almost as soon as he registered what was happening, he was on the floor next to the panicking teen.

Truth be told, Tony was terrified. Sure, he'd dealt with his fair share of panic attacks and they sucked, but he never wished for anyone else to suffer through one, especially Peter. He was just a kid who didn't deserve the stress and anxiety that came with one.

As soon as he said what he said, he turned away from Peter in embarrassment. In that quick moment that he yelled, he sounded so much like his father and he hated himself for that. He'd probably never forgive himself for causing this scene.

"Mr. Stark, please don't."

Tony looked up from his lap and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Peter smiled slightly, just barely enough that if you weren't paying attention, you would've missed it. "Don't blame yourself for this. It's not your fault," he said softly as he scooted over to sit right next to Tony.

"I'm just glad you're okay, kid," Tony smiled as he reached an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and pulled him in for a side hug.

"I'm glad too, Mr. Stark."


	3. Chapter 3

**WARNING: **This chapter contains a description of a graphic injury towards the end. Please read with caution

* * *

Everyday for Peter started the same. Waking up to the smell of toaster waffles that May never failed to make for him, throwing on whatever shirt and jeans he found that weren't _that_ dirty, stuffing his Spider-Man suit in the bottom of his backpack, and grabbing the toaster waffles from May on his way out of the small apartment.

Once he got to school was where the day was unpredictable. He never knew what kind of shit he'd have to put up with from Flash, and he never knew what Ned would let slip. He always let something slip, whether it was something huge, or something only Peter would understand.

Getting through the school day as quickly as possible was something Peter nailed to a science. Head down, keep walking. Answer a maximum of 3 questions per class, otherwise Flash assumes Peter is showing off. The less confrontation he gets with Flash, the quicker he can get on patrol, and today he was itching to get on patrol.

Peter was about to crack yet another mystery case the police department were getting nowhere with. And once he catches the culprit, he's sure Tony would offer him an Avengers position.

Someone had been going around the city using highly advanced explosives to break into banks and different stores. It was no wonder the local police department haven't had any luck, after all, they've never dealt with alien tech before. Luckily enough for Peter, he has. And he knew just who had to be behind the explosions.

There was only one problem.

His time frame for striking was between 4am and 5am.

If this was happening _before _May caught Peter with the suit on, Peter would have no trouble staying out on patrol that late and catching the guy like a piece of cake. But of course Peter didn't get off that easy.

Once May calmed down enough to rationally speak to her nephew about the insane things he'd hid from her, she laid out a few ground rules. Most of them were very simple, like making sure all his homework was finished before he was allowed to go out, coming back home for dinner, and no patrolling on Saturdays. That was their movie night.

But the one rule that Peter dreaded, the one rule that kept him from being able to catch the guy behind the advanced explosions, was his curfew.

May made it very clear to him that he was to be back home in bed no later than 3am. And Peter hadn't been able to work up the courage to say screw it and stay out. She threatened a) for every minute he was late, equated to a day without the suit, and b) to call Tony to track him down and bring him home.

There was no way Peter wanted to risk losing his suit privileges for longer than a day, so he hasn't made any attempt at staying out later. Besides, he really didn't want Tony to scoop him up and forcefully bring him home in the middle of the night.

But tonight was when that changed. He was going to catch the guy for sure.

_Last night Peter was doing his usual stakeout from the top of a building when he noticed a figure walking repeatedly around a building, taking notes. As he got closer, and with the help of Karen, he was able to make out the notes. _

**Target**

Pita Hot 0300

**Secondary**

Queens County SB

_Peter managed to snap a picture of the page, and he read over it multiple times, perched above the figure. _

_It made no sense for the target to be Pita Hot. That was just a small restaurant on the corner. They wouldn't have nearly enough cash in the register for this to be the advanced weapons guy. But, the target time was 3am and it was close enough to the time frame, but just far enough if he was trying to shake the cops. _

_SB. SB. What the hell does SB mean, Peter pondered. By now, he watched as the suspect fled, not providing him anymore help. _

_This guy was known for hitting banks and department stores, so why the hell was he hitting a Pita Hot? _

"_Karen, activate night vision," Peter announced suddenly as he stood up. Karen acknowledged and Peter grinned from ear to ear. He was right. _

_The suspect was trying to throw the cops off by striking earlier and actually blowing up the restaurant, before hitting the Queens County Savings Bank across the street. _

_Now, all Peter needed to do was beat him to the restaurant and fool his plans. "This will be easy," he told Karen after explaining his plan to her. _

"_What about your curfew, Peter?" Karen retorted and Peter scoffed. _

"_I don't think May will be too mad when she sees I caught the _Bank Blaster, _as the news refers to him." _

The only thing Peter was risking by staying out past curfew was Tony swooping in and taking him home, but Peter had a solution.

He'd just catch the guy before Tony shows up. Then once he does, he'll see what a good job Peter did and he'll _have_ to offer him an avengers spot.

* * *

Peter was up and out of the school doors almost as soon as the bell rang. It might only be 3pm, but he had to get some supplies before his stakeout.

Running into his usual changing alley, he double checked his surroundings before he pulled his Spider-Man suit out of his backpack and slid it on after he stripped out of his normal clothes.

He really had to give it to Mr. Stark for going above and beyond with this suit. The autofit technology already came in handy more times than Peter would like to admit.

Like usual he webbed his backpack to the dumpster and hoped nobody would steal it. He probably should come up with a better plan considering he has had 5 replacement backpacks this year alone, but hey, he was too excited to get out there on patrol to really care.

Swinging through the city was one of Peter's favorite feelings in the world. He always got such a rush from swinging from building to building. The wind blowing on his face, well mask, and the thrill of falling before getting swooped back up was something he'd never be able to give up.

Carefully Peter lowered himself to the ground in front of a small convenience store. Just as he was about to pull open the glass door, he noticed some motion out of the corner of his eye.

Turning to what the motion was, he couldn't help the smile that formed on his covered face at the sight of the small boy who was waving at him.

Of course, Peter was far from famous, but every once in a while a child recognized him, either from tv news reports, or just seeing him swing through the city, and that recognition alone was enough to motivate him to keep doing what he does- looking out for the little guy.

He waved back to the child and let out a small chuckle when the little boy's face lit up and he immediately started tugging on his mom's shirt.

Even if Peter had a really bad day or night, he always looked forward to making a kid's day. And he knew exactly why.

Because the same thing happened to him back in 2010 at Mr. Stark's _Stark Expo. _When Iron Man saved him, and it was from that day on he tried his best to be just like his hero.

A small voice from under him drew him from his thoughts and he looked down to see the little boy now standing by his side.

The little boy waved his little hand in a gesture for Spider-Man to bend down, so Peter did just that. He got down on one knee to be at the same height as the small boy.

As soon as Peter was about the same size as the boy, the little leaned closer to whisper where he assumed Spider-Man's ear was. "You're my hero, Spider-Man," he whispered and threw his arms around Peter's neck in a surprise hug.

Peter smiled under his mask and hugged the child back. He heard the click of a camera and assumed the boy's mother took a photo of the interaction.

As Peter pulled away from the hug, his hands lingered on the boy's shoulders. "Thank you, that means a lot to me," Peter told him as he attempted to make eye contact. Truth be told, eye contact with a mask that covers your entire head isn't the easiest thing, but he ignored that fact as he watched the little boy grin from ear to ear.

The little boy finally stepped back giving Peter enough room to stand up. As he did so, Peter ruffled the child's hair, just like Mr. Stark did to his head at the expo.

Peter ignored the rest of the crowd that he now noticed had gathered around him as he pulled the convenience store door open and walked in.

After an unexpected but not unwelcome event, Peter was back on track for tonight.

He just needed to grab a few snacks to get himself through the stake out. Afterall, he was going to be waiting on a rooftop until 3am.

Peter grabbed a small basket and tossed in some various snacks.

After his basket was quite full he glanced down to check out his haul. There were a few bags of _Doritos_, different types of candies, a 4 pack of _Red Bull_, and an apple. He had to at least eat one healthy thing tonight.

Dropping the almost overfilled basket on the checkout counter, he pulled his wallet out of an undetectable pocket on his hip, next to his web refill cartridges.

He pulled a $20 bill out of the very battered wallet and handed it to the cashier, who was giving absolutely no reaction to helping a dude in a blue and red spandex suit.

Peter waited patiently as the cashier pressed various buttons on the cash register before putting the bill into the drawer once it popped open, and pulling out smaller bills for change. He reached across the counter and dropped the change into Peter's open hand, and slid the back across the counter for him to take. Finally Peter was on his was to his stakeout location.

He picked a rooftop a couple buildings down from the Pita Hot. He perched on the edge of the roof, looking over the two buildings the Bank Blaster was supposed to hit, and glance at the clock in the corner of his display. It was only 5pm. He thought about going out and doing some small patrol jobs to speed up time, but he didn't want to risk missing anything in case the Bank Blaster's plans changed.

Dropping down to sit more comfortably on the edge, he cracked open his first _Red Bull_. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Two _Red Bulls _and three bags of chips later, Peter was awoken by the sound of an alarm within his mask. He wasn't sure how long ago he'd nodded off but the message on his display read _15 minutes until curfew_.

Peter grinned. 15 minutes until his culprit planned to strike. He climbed off the edge onto the rooftop and attempted to clean up the mess he made.

"Shouldn't you be heading home, Peter?" Karen spoke up as he crushed one of the small tin cans.

"Not tonight, Karen. The Bank Blaster is gonna be here any minute, and I have to catch him," Peter replied, chucking his trash back in the plastic bag.

"You know Tony Stark and May Parker will be notified of your location once 3am hits and you're not home, right?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yes, Karen. I'm fully aware. Besides, I want Mr. Stark to know where I am so he can see what I accomplished."

Tires screeching on the street below him caught Peter's attention. "He's here," he whispered to the only other "person" with him.

"Karen, activate enhanced reconnaissance mode."

His AI did as Peter instructed and night vision was activated as well as enhanced audio. Perching back on the building's edge, Peter listened carefully.

"Are you sure we should do this? We've had the cops on our tail for the past week and this is a much bigger hit."

"If all goes to plan we'll be in and out in 10 minutes. Stop being so paranoid."

"But, if all doesn't go to plan, we're screwed… I can't go to jail!"

"It's too late to back out now, so get out of the van and start the set up."

Peter watched as the two figures stepped out of the van and headed towards the back of Pita Hot. His chances at getting both suspects were much better if he would be able to get the leader first. He assumed the man in charge was the one with confidence, aka the Bank Blaster. If he subdued the Bank Blaster first, whoever his partner is would most likely give up as well.

_Here goes nothing_, he told himself as he dropped from the roof, landing right in front of the two figures.

"Sorry guys, looks like Pita Hot is closed. Why don't you just head home," he suggested in his confident Spider-Man voice as he took a few steps towards the two men.

"I don't think I invited you, Spider-Man," the bigger of the two spoke up, almost growling his name.

Peter put a hand over his chest. "Aw, you know my name. I'm touched," he tried to sound sincere. "How about you tell me yours, so we can really be friends?" The question was worth a shot, even though he knew the Bank Blaster would have to be stupid to actually give up his real name.

"Phineas Mason," he spat out after a moment of consideration.

Peter was shocked. He didn't think he'd actually give up his name that easily.

"But I prefer _The Tinkerer_. Not the stupid Bank Blaster, as the media dubbed me."

"Well, nice to meet you. I'm Spider-Man. I prefer, well, Spider-Man," Peter joked calmly as he leaned against the brick wall of Pita Hot. "Now how about you tell me why you're out here blowing up banks and soon this Pita Hot. You know that's illegal right?"

Peter seemed to hit a nerve with The Tinkerer. "I didn't have much option after you caught my boss. Left me on the run with whatever tech I had left at the warehouse."

He quirked a brow under his mask. "I'm sorry, you lost me, your boss?"

The Tinkerer smiled. "Adrian Toomes," he paused, and Peter froze.

He sure was glad he was wearing a mask right now, because he definitely had a shocked expression that a superhero should never bear.

"Rings a bell, doesn't it," The Tinkerer continued, and Peter forced himself to reign in his emotions and focus on what he came here for. "Rumor has it he knows just who you are.. Under the mask, that is."

Peter's heart skipped a beat. If this guy knew his identity, he'd spill it to the world if he was captured.

"Too bad he refused to tell me."

A breath of relief was released and Peter calmed down. His secret was safe. "Yeah, well, like you said. It's just a rumor," he stepped away from the wall and faced the two men in front of him. "Hey… That looks important," he mumbled as he quickly reached his hand forward and shot a web out to snatch whatever device was in The Tinkerer's hands.

Peter turned the object over to look at it from all sides. "What even is this?" He questioned as he turned it over and noticed a small red light. He looked up to the The Tinkerer and was confused as to why he hadn't tried to get this back or make a move.

"What does the media refer to me as?" He asked smugly as he reached into his pocket.

"Well, they call you that Bank-" Peter's words stopped in his mouth as he watched as The Tinkerer hit a small button on a remote, causing the red light to blink rapidly.

Peter's first reaction was to drop the bomb on the ground and run as far away as quickly as possible. Unfortunately for him, as soon as the small device hit the ground, it exploded.

The momentum of the explosion behind him threw Peter further into the dark alley. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he was flung through the air.

His leg connected first with a dumpster, a sickening crack sure would've been heard if Peter's ears weren't ringing and if his head wasn't pounding already.

Almost as soon as his leg hit the corner of the dumpster, so did the rest of his body.

His back connected next and the metal warped underneath him, presumably creating a Peter sized dent in the thick metal.

Finally the force of the explosion snapped his head back into the other corner of the dumpster. Pain flared throughout his body immediately and Peter didn't bother fighting the urge to give into unconsciousness as his body came to a stop on the cold pavement of the dark alley.

* * *

Tony groaned and rolled over in his bed as an alarm blared throughout his bedroom. "FRIDAY turn that the hell off. Can't you see I'm sleeping?" He rasped as he shoved his face in his pillow in an attempt to block out the loud noise.

"Sir, it's 3am," his AI insisted and tony fought the urge to grab his phone and manually power her down for the remainder of the night. This was the first night in quite a while he had been able to fall asleep and stay asleep. That was until now.

"Thanks for the time update FRIDAY, but I'd like to get back to my surprisingly peaceful slumber. If you don't mind."

There was a beat of silence and Tony thought he'd finally gotten through to his AI and he'd get the rest he deserved.

That short moment of peace fled when she spoke up again.

"Sir, it's Peter's curfew alarm. He has yet to enter his apartment. My protocol is to notify you and May Parker."

Tony audibly groaned again. Of course the kid is still out attempting to fight crime. Hopefully a phone call from a tired, and very angry Tony Stark would knock some sense into him. "Call him," he ordered FRIDAY as he rolled over to lie on his back and stare up at the ceiling as he waited for Peter to pick up.

A few more beats of silence passed and Tony's anger was growing with every second the kid was ignoring his call for.

"Sir, there was no response."

"Dammit, Peter," he mumbled under his breath before pausing. "FRIDAY, where is he?"

Tony quirked a brow at the silence that followed his question. It wasn't like his AI to outright ignore him. Something was wrong and he was starting to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach. "FRIDAY?"

"Sir.. It appears as if Peter's tracking system was knocked offline. The last ping was 20 minutes ago around the corner of 76th & Main Street."

Tony crumbled his bedsheet in his fist in an attempt to control his anger. He thought he got through to the kid about disabling software in his suit. Especially when that software could be very vital to his safety.

Vital…

Peter promised he wouldn't disable the tracking system. He knew better. He knew it was important and could get him into even more trouble. Something had to be wrong.

"FRIDAY, give me his vitals," he asked and held his breath as he laid in eerie silence waiting for a response.

"It appears the vital system was knocked offline was well, sir. The last registered vital check, appeared to place Peter in a state of extreme distress."

"Shit!" Tony yelled and literally jumped out of his bed.

He was out of his bedroom and almost into his lab before he finally gave in and took another breath. "FRIDAY, I need his last known location," he paused as he jumped into the closest suit to him. "Now!"

* * *

Pain radiated everywhere.

From the tip of his toes to the top of his head.

Not only was he in pain, he was cold. Freezing even. His teeth chattered once he registered just how cold he was.

Peter blinked his eyes open and saw nothing. It was complete blackness. Not even the slight illumination from the moon. It was like he was blind.

And then the panic set in. He couldn't be blind. How could Spider-Man get around if he was blind?

Wait. Spider-Man.

He was in his suit.

He's not blind. His mask is on.

He let out a shaky breath of relief and slowly attempted to wiggle his fingers. Baby steps, he told himself.

He was relieved that he still had control over his fingers, and he carefully lifted his arm off the cold asphalt and reached up to pull his mask off his head.

Peter dropped the mask to the ground and let his arm follow. He was exhausted from that slight movement.

After taking a few moments to collect his breathing, he glanced around his surroundings. He didn't dare move, the pain from lying here was enough.

He could only see in front of him. And all he could see was a couple dumpsters and the dim light of a street light at the end of the alley.

_Why am I in an alley? More importantly, why am I in so much pain? _

Then it hit him. Karen. He could just ask her.

"Karen?" He croaked out, and winced at how frail he sounded.

He waited a few seconds. No response.

Karen always responds. Something wasn't right.

First his mask was completely dark, and now his AI wasn't answering him.

He took a deep breath in preparation before lifting his arm once again to get a better look at his mask.

_Shit. _

Just like he thought. Whatever the hell happened to him knocked out his suit.

He was alone.

Alone in a dark alley. With no clue where he was, or what happened.

He had no way to contact anyone. He didn't even know what time it was.

Alone, in pain.

All this thinking was making his head pound, sharp and heavy. Between the pain bouncing around in his head, his leg was the source of the second most pain. And it felt like he was on fire below his knee.

He wanted to sit up and get a better look, but even the slightest movement threatened his head.

He felt stuck.

He couldn't move in fear of causing himself more pain, and he couldn't even completely see where he was.

It was the building all over again.

Flashes of him trapped under the rubble, struggling for air, fear of dying alone without anyone knowing, played out in his head.

He never told Mr. Stark about that. He couldn't bring himself to. And now he never would.

He didn't realize tears were falling from his eyes until he tried to take a breath and found himself sobbing, but he didn't bother wiping them off or trying to "man up". This was it.

* * *

Tony came to a hovering halt once his suit beeped.

The closest to a location FRIDAY could give was a half mile radius from Peter's last suit ping. He could be anywhere within the small blue circle that was shown in the bottom corner of Tony's display.

"Sir, hovering here isn't going to help. Every second counts." FRIDAY suddenly announced and drew him from his thoughts.

Right. FRIDAY was right. Without knowing exactly where Peter was or what condition he was in, he couldn't afford to waste anymore time.

Without hesitating, Tony headed towards the center of the circle, where Peter's last location was pinged at. Maybe he'd get lucky and Peter was smart enough to not move very far.

As Tony passed over rooftops, he came to another halt when some of Peter's webbing caught his eye.

He circled back around to inspect the webbing. It looked like Peter has webbed something to the wall, like he used to do with his backpacks. Even though Tony instructed him not to.

Tony reached forward and pulled the webbing off the wall and freed the contents from beneath it. He stepped back as trash made its way out of a plastic bag. "What the hell..?" he questioned as he picked up two crushed cans of Red Bull.

What could the kid have possibly gotten himself involved in that required _two_ Red Bull's, when Peter shouldn't be drinking _any _extra caffeine, period.

Based on the rest of the contents it seemed as it Peter was on some sort of a stake out. If Peter had common sense, which Tony kind of doubted sometimes, he would've picked his stake out location based on where whatever event was supposed to go down.

Tony stepped to the edge of the building and took a glance at his surroundings. The street corner was littered with various restaurants and what looked like a small bank..

Shit.

It hit Tony like a truck.

Peter was going after the so called Bank Blaster.

Of course he was. And it wasn't surprising how he failed to mention any of his plans. Such a Peter move.

Tony carefully lowered himself down to the street below and looked around.

The bank looked unharmed. If the Bank Blaster has been here, there would've been a huge hole in the side of the building. Unless Peter succeeded in stopping him. But if that's the case, he wouldn't be missing right now. Something had to have gone terribly wrong.

"Peter? Are you out there?" He yelled, hoping for a response.

Silence followed and Tony's panic was catching up with him. "Peter! Where are you!"

Tony looked at all the dark alleyways Peter could be down. The thought of Peter alone, possibly injured, in a dark alley sent shivers down his spine.

"Sir," FRIDAY spoke up and Tony jumped. "Would you like me to activate your new thermal imaging software? It's still in beta, but it should work."

Tony almost face-palmed. He completely forgot about that. This situation was causing him so much panic he forgot about something that would be very useful right now.

"Yes, FRIDAY." He answered softly. "Thank you."

The only answer his AI gave him was a quiet click before the software turned on and Tony saw everything based on their heat signature.

He turned to face the first alleyway of many. A quick glimpse down and he was greeted with a few rats, but no Peter. He wasn't sure if that should be relieving or worrying.

He approached the next alley and prepared himself for the worst. He glanced into the dark, and froze.

There, on the ground halfway into the alley, was a Peter sized heat signature. He looked motionless. "Fuck." He muttered as opened the suit and jumped out.

FRIDAY turned his arc reactor into a makeshift light so he could see, even slightly, and he was grateful.

The moment the light hit the blue and red of the suit Tony designed, his heart rate skyrocketed. "Peter?" he asked cautiously as he approached.

No response.

Tony knelt down next to the still boy and held his breath. "Kid? Please say something."

Silence.

Slowly Tony reached out and carefully turned Peter's head to face him. "Kid?" He whispered again as he took in his appearance.

Tear tracks were clear on his face from where they swept up the dirt from his cheeks. Tony didn't even want to think about the different reasons Peter could've been crying.

Pulse. Check for a pulse, he reminded himself and reached forward with a shaky hand and gently rested his fingers on the small boy's neck.

A heavy breath of relief was released at the recognition of the small heart beat beneath his fingertips. "Kid, you gotta wake up," he pleaded as he pushed Peter's matted hair off his forehead.

"Come on, Pete. I know you're strong. Show me."

A long moment of silence followed before anything happened. Before Peter's eyes slowly fluttered open. "Thank god," Tony mumbled with a smile as Peter's vision adjusted.

"Mr-mr. Stark?" Peter rasped as he looked up in confusion. The small movement sent stabbing pain throughout his head and he scrunched his eyes shut tight.

"Peter? Are you alright?"

Peter fought the urge to shake his head in response, which is what he wanted to do instead of speaking. Speaking also hurt. "My.. My head… Everything.. It all.. hurts."

Tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes again, but he couldn't help it. This was the most pain he'd ever felt.

Tony looked up at the dumpster Peter was lying next to. "Based on the head shaped dent in this dumpster, I think you have a concussion."

"A dent? I don't- I don't remember hitting it."

"That's not surprising. Let's just be glad you're conscious right now." Tony glanced back down and sighed. He had to get him back to the tower. "Can you stand? I have to get you out of here."

"I-I think so." Peter replied as he reached up slowly to put his arms around Tony's neck to help him up.

Slowly Tony started to help pull Peter up off the ground.

He froze the second a chilling yell was ripped from Peter's mouth. "What? What's wrong?" Tony asked, panic setting in.

"My-my leg.!" Peter moaned and was back to his original position on the ground with his eyes shut tight.

Tony turned to get a better look at the kid's legs. He sucked in his breath at the unpleasant sight. Peter's left leg was bent at an awkward angle between his ankle and his knee.

And that's when he noticed the blood.

Blood stained the area on the suit right near the break. His bone must've broken the skin.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter spoke up and Tony turned back to face him immediately.

"Yes?"

"My leg... Is it bad?"

Tony pauses and glanced back at it, a small pool of blood forming on the ground.

"No. It's not. Just a small break. You're alright." He spoke gently to the poor boy and cursed himself mentally for lying, but he could barely stomach the injury. That wasn't something a 15 year old needed to see or know about.

"Oh. That's good." Peter said again and relaxed. Not even 5 seconds later Peter spoke up again. "Mr. Stark?"

"What, Peter?" Tony asked a little too harshly as he was trying to figure out the best way to get Peter out of there.

Peter didn't reply.

Tony turned to see Peter's head had lolled to the side and his eyes were relaxed.

"Shit."

He'd passed out. It was now or never to move him. Tony didn't want to leave Peter lying on the ground any longer, but he had to get back into his suit.

FRIDAY seemed to know what he was thinking and as Tony turned, his suit was already right behind him. "Thanks," he whispered as he stepped back in.

Once he was back in the suit, Tony reached under Peter's knees and arms to carry him back to the tower.

"You'll be okay. I promise," he whispered more to himself than Peter, and quickly stood before taking off.

"FRIDAY, call Bruce. Now."


	4. Chapter 4

Exhaustion was nothing new to Peter, but he hadn't felt it to this extent since before he became Spider-Man.

Here at the tower infirmary, Tony has been strictly enforcing new rules, including keeping Peter on bed rest. Bed rest was definitely the worst punishment he'd ever been given. He had nothing to do all day besides lying in bed hoping Ned or May would come visit him.

Neither of them have visited in a couple days. The accident was about a week ago now, and since Peter was healing so well, they decided to get back to their actual lives since there wasn't anything to worry about. Peter was annoyed, sure. His only source of entertainment besides the TV across the room, had stopped. But he knew in the grand scheme of things they had things they needed to be doing instead of sitting by his bedside.

Peter really had to give it up to Dr. Banner for helping him through his recovery. Only about a week since the explosion and Peter was almost 100%.

His memory was still a work in progress, but for the most part it had returned. There were still some small details that were really fuzzy to Peter, mainly the last bit of the conversation he had before the actual explosion. But, as Dr. Banner assured him, he would have his memory back completely within the next couple days or so.

Peter's advanced healing was what was causing him to be so exhausted all the time. He might be complaining to Tony about being stuck on bed rest, but truth be told, he didn't have the energy to get out of bed if he had the chance.

His body had never had to work as hard to repair itself before now, and it was like he has been working double shifts for the past week.

Most, if not all, of the smaller cuts and bruises were already healed and all his body was working on now was his leg.

His leg was by far the worst injury he had. Probably ever. After being slammed into the dumpster back in that alley, he sustained an open fracture midway down his shin.

Peter won't ever forget the yelling that occured when Tony reached the tower, carrying Peter in his arms.

"_Moving someone with an open fracture is not only dangerous, it's downright stupid, Tony! You should've called and waited for me to get to you!" Bruce yelled as he rolled one of the slim hospital-esque bed over to where Tony just landed, to place the injured boy on. _

_Tony carefully lowered Peter down, thankful Bruce was acting quickly. Peter stared up at him in confusion, having woken up not long before Tony reached the tower. _

"_Open.. fracture?" Peter questioned quietly from below the two men. He never learned the full state of his leg injury. _

_Tony and Bruce ignored him, opting to get right to work. _

"_Listen," Tony started. "I couldn't just wait there, Bruce. I was already panicking and I didn't want to risk a panic attack with him unconscious and bleeding, okay? I just couldn't." _

_Bruce paused for a second to look at Tony. "I'm sorry, Tony. I didn't mean to yell." He apologized as he continued placing an IV into Peter's arm. _

"_It's fine. Just fix him."_

Now his leg was stuck in a boring white cast, with an exception of the few names he had scribbled across the plaster from his friends, for another week until his bones fully heal.

And don't get him started on his head. Concussions are _not_ fun. He constantly feels like his head is a drum at a rock concert.

Worst of all, the concussion seemed to worsen his nightmares. As if his brain was trying to push the pain somewhere else, and it all got dumped right into his dreams.

He suffered from nightmares ever since his uncle Ben was killed. Back then they were manageable, and he got them under control once he finally caught the killer.

Then he started being Spider-Man more, and they got worse.

Ever since Toomes dropped that building on him a few months ago, it was incorporated in a nightmare almost every single time.

Just thinking about being back in that rubble, struggling to breathe, water soaked through his clothes causing him to shiver, the fear of never being found, was enough to send a chill down Peter's spine.

Sometimes it wasn't him under the rubble.

Sometimes it was Tony. And Peter couldn't help him in time.

Sometimes it was Tony realizing he was making a mistake trying to mentor Peter.

But, easily, the worst of all, was one that combined all of his past nightmares into one, and it had been playing on repeat since he'd been in recovery.

* * *

Peter dropped himself down into the alleyway below, startling the two men he had been watching.

"Ah. Spider-Man. Good to see you," the shorter of the two spoke up with a sickening smile.

Peter squinted. "I'm sorry?"

"I said, good to see you. We've been waiting for you."

"You've been waiting for me? Okay, I'm confused. I'm supposed to be the one waiting for _you_. Not the other way around," Peter explained.

"You know, I'd expect someone of your age to understand what's going on here."

Peter just stared. What the hell was going on?

"Anyway, I'll save you some brain power and cut to the chase," he paused, likely for dramatic effect. Peter rolled his eyes. "You remember my boss, Adrian Toomes, right?"

Peter quirked a brow. "Toomes was your boss? What, did he not pay you enough so you had to go around robbing banks?"

Surprisingly the Bank Blaster let out a laugh. "Good one, but no," he stepped towards Peter, "He told me who you are."

Peter froze. He was bluffing. Surely if Toomes let his identity out, he would've had more people coming after him. Right?

The Bank Blaster took another step towards him, and looked Peter up and down. "Peter Parker. Sophomore at Midtown. Spotted quite often with Tony Stark. Is that where you got your suit? Did Stark make it for you?"

_Shit. _Toomes did release his identity. If Peter didn't silence this guy now, there was no telling who he'd tell.

Peter shook himself from his thoughts. He needed to focus. Taking this guy out was what he needed to do, and he won't stop until he does just that. He can't risk his identity getting out even more. "Do you have an obsession with Tony? Is that why you're doing this? In hopes that he'll come out and try to stop you?"

"No, no. Quite the opposite in fact. I'm carrying out Toomes' last mission. And to do that, I needed to get you away from Stark."

"What do you want with him? And why do you need me away from him?" Peter asked, a little too angry for his liking. He was getting tired of this. Why couldn't bad guys learn to just get to the point instead of wasting time being confusing? "

"I want him dead. Why else do you think I'd be standing here talking to you? It's called a diversion, kid."

Peter's first reaction was to step back, mostly in fear. He was having trouble processing this. Karen's calm voice filled his ears and he calmed down for a second until he processed what she actually said.

"There's been an explosion at the tower, Peter. It's Tony's floor."

Not another word escaped Peter's mouth as he turned to web sling his way out of the dark alley.

When the tower came into view, Peter cursed. The top two floors were filled with smoke, the fire had probably already been put out by some of F.R.I.D.A.Y's software.

Nonetheless Peter didn't hesitate to swing himself through one of the windows, much like he did at the Washington monument.

Peter crashed into the building feet first, landing in the living room. The amount of smoke was worrying to Peter. He could barely see five feet in front of his face, partially due to the amount of useless widgets on his masks display. He yanked the fabric off his head and tossed it to the side, not caring where it landed.

Immediately smoke filled his lungs and he did his best to cough it out, and breathe in as little as possible. "Mr. Stark? Where are you?" He yelled through a cough and waited for a response as he checked through the room he was currently in.

This room was empty, and there wasn't a response to his question. Peter started to panic.

"Mr. Stark, please! Where are you?"

Then he heard it.

It was faint, but it was clear as day.

A soft "Pete?" rang out from Tony's bedroom.

"Hold on, I'm coming!" Peter yelled to him and he sprinted to the room.

He had to avoid a few small flames and some chunks of ceiling that fell as he ran under, but after coming to a halt in Tony's bedroom, Peter gasped.

The living room was nothing compared to the condition of Tony's bedroom.

The amount of smoke seemed to have doubled, the explosion was probably worse in this room, and almost the entire ceiling had collapsed. If it wasn't for the dim blue glow of Tony's arc reactor, Peter wouldn't know where to start looking.

"Mr. Stark! I'm here! Don't move, okay? I have to lift this up," he explained as he moved into a position to lift the chunk of ceiling that was currently crushing Tony's legs.

"Why didn't you see it coming, Peter?"

Peter was taken aback and paused what he was saying. He couldn't have heard right. Tony would never say something like that to Peter. He didn't mean it. Did he? As Peter continued to stare down at the man who was looking up at him, he let out a shaky breath. Maybe he hit his head and doesn't understand what he's saying. "What?"

"This is your fault," Tony deadpanned without hesitation as he held his eye contact. "I'm going to die here because of you."

Peter didn't know what to do. Why was Tony suddenly saying these things? This wasn't like him. He was injured. He'd be okay after he got out, right? "You're not gonna die. I just have to move this, and you'll be fine, Mr. Stark," tears started to collect at the corners of his eyes at the sight of Tony's emotionless face.

He bent back into position and started to lift, but was stopped once again when Tony continued on his rant.

"Don't you get it? I wasted my time with you," he paused and a tear slipped down Peter's cheek. "You're a failure."

That was the breaking point for Peter. Tears fell from his eyes and he was at a loss for words. "What? No.. You don't mean that. Stop it," he tried telling his mentor.

It made no sense. The man he looked up to for years, the man who made his legacy on not giving up, the man who didn't give up on him, was now giving up and blaming Peter for it.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here right now."

Peter was getting angry now. Who the hell did he think he was, saying these hurtful things to him, after all they'd been through in the few short months of knowing each other. Tears continued to roll down Peter's face, and it was getting harder to take a full breath.

"S-stop.. Stop saying," he paused to try and take a deep breath, but ended up getting stuck in a sob, "that, Mr. Stark. You don't.. Don't mean it."

But Tony didn't reply.

"Mr. Stark?"

Peter frantically raised a dirty hand to his face and wiped the tears from his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision so he could look down and see what was wrong. He dropped his hand as he looked to see Tony's head to the side with his eyes shut, and his arc reactor dimming.

"No!" peter yelled, his voice cracking. "Mr. Stark, no! Wake up!" Peter's tears had collected again and he was struggling to see now. "Please, Mr. Stark! I need you.."

A loud crack rang out above him and Peter glanced up to see another chunk of ceiling rocking back and forth, about to fall on the pair.

He dropped the chunk he'd been attempting to lift this whole time and crawled over to Tony's side. He reached and grabbed fistfulls of Tony's shirt, in a last effort to pull him out. He was gonna be okay. They'd get out of here on time and he'd be fine. He just needed to get him out of here. "Come on, please. Just wake up!" he pleaded again as he pulled his mentor.

It was no use. He was too stuck. The white shirt Tony was wearing ripped in Peter's grip and he dropped back to the floor with a _thud_.

The only way to move him was to lift the chunk pinning him to the ground. Peter looked back up to keep an eye on the piece that was ready to fall at any moment.

He watched in horror as the piece finally came loose, and cascaded down towards him.

Peter let out a yell.

* * *

Peter shot up in his bed as his yell faded. He glanced at his surroundings to be sure he wasn't in that building anymore.

Like he suspected, he was in the infirmary of the tower. It was just another nightmare. Tony was fine.

Tony. Shit.

Peter quickly pulled his blanket up to his face and wiped away his tears. Tony was probably coming any minute. That yell was pretty loud.

As if on cue, the door to his room was thrown open and a panicked Tony ran in. "What? What is it? Are you okay?"

Peter glanced down at his lap in shame. Dream-Tony's words fresh on his mind. "I'm fine," he mumbled, barely audible.

"Are you sure? I thought I heard a yell." Tony was trying to question him, get something out of him. He wasn't dumb. He knew about the nightmares. May had told him about them before Peter stayed at the tower for the first time. But he didn't want the kid to know he knew, so he kept his distance.

Peter still avoided looking at Tony. He couldn't get the image of his face so emotionless out of his head. "Yes, I'm fine. Can I just go back to sleep now?"

Tony watched as he fiddled with the edge of his blanket. He sighed in defeat. "Yeah sure, kid. Whatever you want."

Without taking his eyes off Peter, Toby his the light switch and pulled the door shut behind him.

* * *

After what felt like the longest week in Peter's life, he was finally off his bed rest restriction and moving back into his own room in the tower.

Bruce scheduled for his leg cast to be taken off tomorrow, and Peter was ecstatic. He was sick off the link of plaster weighing him down everywhere he went.

As for his head, he no longer felt like he was being used for a punching dummy, and his entire memory finally made its return. Unfortunately for his nightmares, his full memory only made them worse.

He hadn't had any bad ones lately to the point where Tony was aware of what was going on, except for the one in the infirmary but Peter tried to play that one off as best he could, and he wanted to keep it that way.

This was something he could deal with on his own. He didn't need to bother Tony with his problems. He was Spider-Man after all. Why should he let some dreams get to him?

Peter was sitting on the edge of his bed texting Ned about all the crazy stuff he couldn't wait to catch up on when he heard a gently knock on his door. He picked his head up to see Tony peaking in.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Peter questioned as he dropped his phone to his lap to give the man his full attention.

At this point Tony has stepped completely into the room and leaned his shoulder against the door frame. "I was just checking in on you. You had an exciting day moving out of the infirmary and getting up to speed with your friends. I figured you'd be asleep by now."

Peter smiled at the gesture. Ever since the accident, Toby tried not to let Peter leave his sight for too long. He was probably afraid he'd hurt himself again. "I'm fine, Mr. Stark," Peter ensured him for probably the 10th time today.

"Well if you need anything, I'll be in the lounge," Tony told him and looked towards the floor. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but felt like he wasn't in the position to.

Peter opened his mouth to reply when a quiet _ding _from his lap pulled his attention down to his phone. By the time he looked back up, Tony was gone.

He looked back down to his phone and let out a small laugh at the message Ned had sent him.

He was surprised when his laugh turned into a yawn. He hadn't felt sleepy until after Tony mentioned it. And he really didn't want to let himself get lost in his own mind.

Leaning back into a half sitting, half lying down position, Peter continued to text back and forth with Ned.

A few more yawns made themselves present and Peter frowned. He hated how easy he'd been tired out these past few days, but Bruce assures him he'd be back to normal in no time.

Letting himself close his eyes for only a few moments was a mistake. It didn't take long for his body to give in, and he fell asleep.

* * *

Tony dropped himself down onto the couch in the lounge with a sigh.

"Still worries about the kid, huh?" Bruce suddenly spoke up, and surprisingly made Tony jump. "Sorry," he mumbled at the reaction.

Tony turned to look at him and slumped his shoulders in defeat. "I just.. i don't know, Bruce. He's only 15 and he's been through nearly as much shit as I have, if not more."

"It's obvious you really care for him. You can't protect him from everything. As much as every parent wants to wrap their kids in bubble wrap and protect them from the world, it doesn't look like that."

"I'm not a parent," Tony countered almost instantly.

"You're pretty close to one. And the closest that kid has to a father figure. Deny it all you want, but why do you think he looks up to you so much?"

Tony seemed to process what Bruce was saying. He always considered Peter as _his_ kid, but he never thought about Peter thinking of him as his father figure.

"He doesn't deserve all he's been through, but you can't change what's already happened to him. You just have to be there now, to prevent worse stuff from happening."

Tony muttered a curse and rubbed at his temples. "How am I supposed to be there for him with everything that's going on with the new accords? I can't get Ross off my back long enough to pay attention to Peter."

"Ross can suck it, okay, Tony? Me, Pepper, and the rest of us will do all we can to get him off your back."

Tony nodded his head, signaling his thanks. "I just… How do I get Peter to talk to me? He doesn't tell me what he gets up to when he goes on patrol and he ends up like this," he gestured to Peter's room around the corner. "He refuses to talk about his nightmares, and he's afraid to sleep. I recognized the fear in his eyes," he slumped forward and dropped his head into his hands.

Bruce didn't respond right away, and Tony listened to some shuffling coming from his direction, until the couch dipped next to him and an arm was draped over his shoulder in comfort. "Tony. You can't expect him to talk to you about everything. Like you said, he's 15. All teenagers are stubborn. He might even be as stubborn as you are now," he said with a slight laugh. "Just show him that you're there for him, and will be no matter what. He'll come to you eventually."

Tony nodded in understanding. He just wished Peter would come to him sooner rather than later. He'd like to avoid another situation like this.

"Thanks, Bruce."

"Of course, Tony. Just like you'll be there for Peter, I'll be here for you." He paused to let go of Tony and reclaim his position in the chair next to the couch. "Now what do you say we continue that show we started earlier. What's it called?"

"Game of Thrones," Tony supplied the answer as he picked the remote up off the coffee table and hit resume.

* * *

Tony wasn't sure how many episodes he made it through before he drifted off. What he was sure of now was FRIDAY attempting to wake him up.

"Why do you always bother me when I'm sleeping?" He muttered and shifted into a more comfortable position.

"Sir, it appears Peter is having another nightmare."

Tony's eyes flew open and he jumped into a standing position. "Is he still asleep?"

"Yes."

Maybe this was his chance. If he was able to wake Peter up from the nightmare, the kid couldn't deny he had one.

Slowly Tony pushed the bedroom door open and frowned at the sight in front of him. Peter was tossing and turning in his bed, mumbling, with visible tears down his cheeks.

Tony crosses the distance from the door to the bed and gently knelt down so he was at Peter's level.

As he reached forward to shake the poor boy's shoulders he was surprised to hear a very quiet, "Mr. Stark, please… no.." Those four words broke his heart. He was the one Peter was having nightmares about? He was the one causing him distress? Of course he didn't want to come to him for help.

A small son broke Tony from his thoughts and he finally gripped Peter's shoulder. With a gentle shake, he tried to wake him from his dream.

"Pete? Hey, wake up. It's just a dream. I'm right here," he repeatedly whispered as he shook his shoulder until Peter's eyes flew open with a gasp.

He looked around the room frantically, and Tony grappled his other shoulder to ground him. "Hey, look at me. It's over now. You're awake."

Immediately as Peter realized he'd been woken up sobbing, from a nightmare, by the very man in said nightmare, he turned his head and wiped his tears away. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn't mean to wake you."

"What?" Toby questioned louder than he wanted to and cursed when Peter flinched. "You have nothing to apologize for, Peter." Tony gently used his thumb to turn Peter to face him.

"Listen, Peter. Nightmares aren't anything to be ashamed about, okay? I get them too, and they suck, and as much as I hate to admit it, talking about them _does_ help them go away." He paused to noticed Peter was doing his best to look anywhere _but_ Tony's eyes.

"Please, Pete. Just talk to me. I know this is hurting you, and it hurts me to see you like this."

Peter fiddled with his hands as he considered his options. Talk to Tony and hopefully get some relief, or suffer in silence for the rest of his life. He really didn't like the idea of admitting to Tony that he was afraid of failing him, but he couldn't live on no sleep forever.

"They're.. They're stupid," he broke the silence without looking at Tony. "It's usually you, or may, instead of me trapped under the building and I can't save you in time. Or.. Or it's me under the rubble and.. and.. and you t-think I'm a failure," he was forced to take a deep breath of air with the realization he was now sobbing. Again. In front of Tony Stark.

"But this time… It was.. It was you who got.. Blown up. And when I tried— tried to save you, you kept calling me a failure and that.. and that you made a mistake taking me in.. But I- I still tried to save you because.. 'cause I knew you didn't mean it. And you.. you.. y-you," he trailed off in tears. He couldn't bring himself to admit it.

Tony understood. The kid was young and afraid of losing another person, his mentor — his hero. Tony just brought Peter into his chest to comfort him and give him time to let it out. "It's okay, Pete. I'm not going anywhere."

He rubbed small circles into his bed, and found his other hand running through his hair, similar to what his mom used to do for him as a child.

Neither of the two spoke for another 10 minutes as Peter finally calmed down and was starting to drift again. "Feel better?" Tony whispered without moving.

A small nod was Peter's only response as he melted further into Tony's grip, clearly exhausted.

"Come on, let's lay you down," Tony mumbled as he cradled Peter's head and gently shifted to place Peter in his bed. Tony continued to massage the boys head as he pulled the covers back up. "Sleep tight."

Slowly Tony pulled his hand from the mess of curls Peter calls hair, and was surprised when Peter reached out to grab his wrist. "Please, stay," he almost whined.

Tony grimaced as he looked at the small bed. He'd definitely need to upgrade it to a queen, at least. But of course he couldn't just leave Peter after he finally managed to break through his tough outer shell.

"Okay, but only if you promise to talk to me about this stuff from now on," he bargained with the teen as he was already crawling over Peter to the other side of the bed where he squished himself against the wall in a half sitting, half laying, and definitely not friendly to his body position.

Peter burrowed himself under the covers with a gain "mhm" until only his curls stuck out.

Tony carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to take a picture.

He couldn't help the smile that formed on his face as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Peter's head. "Goodnight, kid."


	5. Chapter 5

Peter willed the world to shut up. Days like this happened rarely, but when they did, he wished he was alone-not surrounded by hundreds of noisy teenagers.

His head throbbed. Similar to a toothache, but in your brain. Right between the eyes. With every little sound, his ears rang.

And don't get him started on the lights. There were few actual light bulbs in the school, they depended more on big windows and natural lighting. Today was a sunny day. And never did Peter think he would wish for even the smallest cloud to cover the sun, but that's what he needed right now. A break.

He just needed to get to his locker. He was practically navigating the hallways blind. Opening his eyes as little and as rarely as he could, just to glance at the floor and make sure he wouldn't run into anything. In this situation he would usually depend on his enhanced hearing to navigate around people, but he was trying to drown out as much noise as possible.

Just a little further. He recognized that crack in the wall. He was almost there. Almost to a little bit of relief.

He reached the row of lockers his was in and he placed his hand on the wall to count them. _One, two, three, fo-_ he jumped as something was placed on his face.

"Looking for these, Peter?" Ned whispered carefully to his friend.

Peter recognized the small pair of glasses on his face. A smile formed on his face as he slowly opened his eyes. "Thanks, Ned. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Peter glanced around the now much darker hallway. He made sure to keep this glasses in his locker for emergency "over stimulation days" as Ned deemed them.

The glasses themselves looked like simple aviators, except they were extra tinted. Someone with normal vision wouldn't be able to see out of them, but for Peter, they filtered out just the right amount of light for him to get on with his day without being in nearly as much pain.

His headache was still there, and everything was still loud, but that was something Peter lived with. Some days it was just dialed up higher than others. As long as he could see, he could survive the day.

"Why didn't you tell me that today was a bad day?" Ned spoke up, reminding Peter of his presence.

"Sorry, Ned. It just came on suddenly. Thought I could make it to my locker by myself."

"At least we're almost through with the day, right?"

"Right, buddy," Peter plastered a more forced smile on his face. As much as he liked to tell Ned he was fine, and he could handle everything on his own, these headaches really pulled everything out of him. He didn't have the energy to do anything except make it through the rest of the day.

* * *

Thankfully for Peter, his episode came on with only one class left for the day. He made it through math without increasing his pain level by too much. The lights were still insanely bright, and everyone was so _loud_, but he was finally free. He could finally get out of here.

Peter waved goodbye to Ned, and quickly bounded down the steps to the street, trying to get to Happy's car as quickly as he could.

He pulled the car door open and dropped himself inside, letting his eyes shut tightly the second the door was pulled closed behind him.

He could hear as Happy lifted his arm off the center console, reaching forward and grabbing the volume dial on the stereo, turning it to the left to lower the volume on whatever music he had playing. "Thanks," Peter mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes yet.

Happy shifted his leg slightly, turning his foot to the right to press on down on the gas pedal. "Bad day?" He asked over his shoulder as he drove.

"Yeah.. Started just before math."

"You really gotta tell Tony about this. I can tell it's painful for you, even if you don't want to admit it."

Peter cracked an eye open to see Happy glancing at him in the rearview mirror. After all the times Happy has picked him up and dropped him off places, it's easy for Peter to see that he started to care for him. It was especially evident when he threatened to rat Peter out for not dealing with Flash. "I know, Happy. I'm gonna bring it up when I get to the tower."

"Good. Otherwise I'd have to tell him and we both know how it ended up last time I threatened to do that," he smirked slightly.

Peter let out a small chuckle, glancing to the window where he watched the tall buildings fly by. "Yeah. That wasn't fun," he laughed.

* * *

Peter stepped out of the elevator, dropping his sunglasses into his backpack so he wouldn't worry Mr. Stark. He knew he was going to take everyone's advice and ask him to help him make something better, but that could wait. Right now, he just needed a few moments of peace and quiet in the tower.

His hope for a quiet evening was shattered when he heard Mr. Stark yelling from the kitchen. Peter couldn't help his flinch when he first heard it, but Mr. Stark was being awfully loud. He'd never heard him this angry over something before.

He stopped just shy of the kitchen entrance, standing off to the side as he listened since he didn't want to interrupt the phone call.

"I know I need to calm down, Pep. I'm trying. He's driving me absolutely insane! It's like ever since Germany he hasn't let me out of his sight. It's just so infuriating. Like he doesn't understand I have other stuff to do, I don't have time to deal with the shit he's constantly bringing up. God, Pep. I just… I wish I didn't have to deal with him anymore."

Peter dropped his bag to the floor as his jaw dropped in shock. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. How could he be so _stupid_? He turned on his heels, racing to the stairs. He needed out of here. He couldn't believe how naive he was to let this go on for so long. Mr. Stark doesn't care about him and he never did. He's just a burden.

"Yeah, you're right. I just have to suck it up and deal with him. Soon enough, Ross and the whole accords fiasco will be behind me. You know, when this is all over I might just punch him in the face. For fun," Tony chuckled, turning around in the kitchen to get a glimpse of the lounge. He was waiting for Peter to arrive. "Hey, I'll call you back later. The kid should be here soon. Alright, yeah, I love you, Pep."

Tony ended the phone call and dropped his phone into his pocket, looking down at his watch. Peter got out of school not too long ago, so Happy should be dropping him off soon. "Fri, what's the ETA on Pete?"

"Sir, Mr. Parker arrived 5 minutes ago," she responded.

"Did he go straight to the lab?"

"No sir."

"Well.. Where is he?" Toby asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Something felt off.

"Mr. Parker is currently located on the roof," she finally answered after what felt like ages.

Now Tony was sure something was off. "He's what? On the roof? Why?" Tony asked, already stepping forward in the direction of the elevator.

FRIDAY was quiet. Much like last month when his AI found it difficult to break the news to him about Peter's accident. "Friday… Why is Peter on the roof?" He asked again, worry present in his voice.

"Sir, I believe Mr. Parker may have overheard your phone call and interpreted it as about him."

"Shit," Tony muttered, turning on his heels in the direction of the stairs. He didn't want to waste anytime in the elevator.

Tony took the stairs two at a time. He highly doubted Peter would do anything _stupid, _but he did say some pretty awful things about Ross, and for Peter to think they were about him? He wasn't sure how he'd handle it.

He couldn't help but hold his breath as he reached forward and grabbed the door handle. He found himself praying to any and all entities he could think of.

Pushing the door open and stepping onto the roof, Tony took in the sight before him.

Everything was wrecked. Boxes were thrown around, papers littered the ground, and any furniture that was up here had been turned on it's side or broken into several pieces.

He let out the breath he was holding in relief when he finally spotted Peter. He was curled up on his side, pressed into the corner where the two half ways met, hands pressed hard against his eyes.

"Pete?" Tony called out and carefully stepped closer. "Are you alright? What are you doing up here, bud?"

"Just go away," Peter called back without moving. "I'll get out of your life. I'll get my stuff and leave, okay? Just leave me alone."

Tony continued stepping forward until he was close enough, he dropped himself down on the ground next to Peter. "Where'd you get that idea?"

If it were possible, Tony would claim he could hear the kid roll his eyes at his comment.

"I heard you on the phone. You were complaining to Pepper about not wanting to deal with me. I shouldn't have gone to Germany with you. I shouldn't have gotten involved."

Tony simply sat there and started to laugh.

Peter lifted his head off the ground slightly, furrowing his brows as he looked up at Tony. "What's so funny?"

"You are," Tony said after he stopped laughing. He looked down to the kid curled up at his side. "If you were to have stuck around for a few more seconds, you would've heard me say it was about Ross, and his bullshit accords."

"R-really?" Peter asked, finally pushing himself into a seated position. He was no longer pushing his hands into his eyes, but they still lingered around his head, almost like he was plugging his ears. "You don't hate me?"

"Of course I don't. I could never hate you. You're like my kid— no, wait. Scratch that. You _are _my kid, whether you like it or not."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. It means—"

One of the chairs Peter had knocked on its side earlier in his rage tipped over in the breeze. Peter couldn't help but flinch as the metal chair collided with the concrete ground with a loud crash that echoed in his head. Instinctively he reached his hands up and covered his ears. He wished everyone wasn't so _loud_ right now.

Tony glanced between the toppled over chair and Peter curled up with his hands pressed against his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. "Hey.. What's up?"

"Bad day.. Everything's so _bright _and _loud, _but mainly bright."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony asked, carefully digging into his pocket to grab the pair of sunglasses he always carries with him.

"Here," he said, unfolding the glasses and gently placing them on Peter's face. "That help?"

Peter slowly opened his eyes and glanced around. "Yeah, it is. Thank you," he said softly before glancing back down to his lap in shame. "I was gonna tell you… But then I overheard you on the phone and freaked out. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I swear. I just walked in and could hear _everything._"

"It's okay, I understand," Tony assured him. He pushed himself up off the ground, reaching down to help Peter up. "C'mon, lets go whip something up to help with your bad days."

Peter reached up to grab ahold of Tony to lift himself up, mumbling a small, "Alright."

Carefully Tony led Peter back down the stairs into the building, taking him directly to the workshop. "So, spill. What happens on your bad days? What do you need to protect against?" He asked as he leaned against a workbench.

"Well… It's just like.. Okay. So you already know that after the bite my senses were dialed up to 11?" Peter paused, waiting for confirmation from Tony. His nod was Peter's cue to continue. "On my bad days, it's like they jump from an 11 to a 20. Light becomes almost unbearable, and I can hear _everything_. Whispers become yells, and talking becomes screaming. It's just too much to handle."

"Jeez, kid," Tony said as he pushed himself forward off the workbench, reaching for some supplies. "Why'd you wait to say anything to me?"

Peter stepped to where Tony was previously leaning, and hopped up to sit on the workbench, letting his legs dangle. "I dunno… I guess I was just embarrassed. I felt like I should have to deal with it on my own. Like.. Like I didn't wanna bother you for help."

"You don't have to worry about stuff like that. Everyone needs help eventually. And no matter how much they don't want your help or think they don't need it, you still help them. 'Cause we all need help, got it?"

Peter nodded his head, watching Tony move around the workshop grabbing different supplies, and tools. "Understood, sir" he said, mockingly, with a laugh.

It didn't take Tony very long to, as he said, whip something up. After about 10 minutes in the workshop, he presented Peter with two things. A paid of extra tinted glasses, and what looked like a simple pair of earbuds.

Peter reached his hands out and took them gratefully. He slipped the glasses on his face, mouth gaping in awe. They were much darker than his originals. The lenses almost looked black, but when he put them on it was like the lights were dimmed around him. It was perfect.

He listened as Tony explained the earbuds. They were basically a pair of regular earbuds, but Tony replaced the sensors and added extra noise canceling. Peter put them in his ears and tapped the sides of them to activate the noise canceling, and was even more amazed. Everything around him instantly quieted to a level Peter could actually stand.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Really. I can't thank you enough," Peter said as he dropped himself off the workbench.

"Don't mention it, kid," he paused, glancing down at him. "Here, I know how you can thank me," he smirked slightly, throwing his arms out wide, waiting for Peter to give him a hug.

Peter couldn't help the smile that formed on his face when Mr. Stark held his arms out, waiting. He quickly stepped forward and reached his arms around his torso, burying his head in his shoulder.

Tony wrapped his arms around the shorter boy, holding him tightly. They stood there in silence for a few moments, Tony mentally debating if he should say this next thing or not. If he didn't say it now, he didn't know when he'd get himself to say it. And he's been beating himself up over the simple phrase for the last few weeks.

"I love you, kid," he finally managed to say, holding his breath while he waited for a response.

Peter figured he should probably be scared or something other than what he was really feeling. He felt good. The words felt right. He lifted his head up slightly so his words wouldn't be muffled. "I love you too, Mr. Stark."

Tony let out a breath of relief, a smile forming on his face. "Good," he said softly, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on the top of Peter's head.


	6. Chapter 6

Winter had its ups and downs for Peter. The goods included winter break, and winter break meant less time having to deal with Flash, and Peter would take dealing with a little bit of snow over Flash any day. But winter also meant he could spend less time as Spider-Man. Sure, Peter's suit was equipped with a heater, but web-swinging in the snow was not an easy task. And many of the petty crimes Peter takes care of don't occur during winter, because it's too cold for the criminals as well.

Peter was just glad he had a couple weeks to himself. No homework, and definitely no Flash.

Winter break also meant more time at the Tower with Tony.

Today was Peter's last day of school before break, and the two had agreed that today wouldn't be a tower day. Peter was bummed, of course, because even though it was a Friday- and Friday's were _always_ tower days- Tony had insisted that Peter just go to his apartment after school.

Peter tried arguing, he tried the puppy eyes, and he tried bargaining, but Tony wasn't budging.

How bad could one day off from the Tower be?

Peter bounded up the stairs in his building like he normally did on non-tower days. As he slipped inside the small apartment, May was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

He dropped his bag by the door and he slipped his shoes off. "Isn't it a little early for dinner?" he questioned as he took in a whiff of what was cooking.

May turned slightly to look back at him and she gave him a sad smile. "I got called into work early, I'm sorry, Peter."

Oh. He forced a smile on his face. "It's okay," he tried to assure her.

"I thought about leaving you some money to order a pizza, but I figured since you were already bummed about not being able to go to the Tower today, I might as well cook you something nice to take your mind off it."

Peter's fake smile turned into a genuine one. He loved his aunt. She'd do anything for him. And he wouldn't trade that for the world. "Thanks, May."

"Why don't you grab a plate? It's almost finished."

He graciously agreed and reached into one of the cupboards next to May to grab two plates, just in case she had time to eat as well. He sat the plates down on the counter as he waited patiently for her to finish.

It amazed him that she was willing to take extra time out of what little time she had left before she had to work lengthy hours. And not only did she cook for him, she cooked him one of his favorite meals. Spaghetti.

As he piled his plate high with noodles he made a mental note for them to eat in more often. It was rare now that they ate together- either May gets called into work early, or Peter is already out "Spider-Manning" as May likes to call it. But when they did get the opportunity to eat together, Peter cherished every moment of it.

Not long after the two finished their meals, May was heading out the door. "Leftovers are in the fridge for when you get hungry. Try not to have too much fun while I'm gone," she told him with a laugh.

"I would never," he pretended to be offended she would even suggest that. "Have a good time at work, May. I love you."

"I love you too, Peter. I'll see you soon."

And with that, the door to the apartment was shut, and Peter was left by himself.

* * *

After an hour of channel surfing, Peter decided he hated winter.

He was bored out of his mind sitting in this tiny apartment with nothing to do. Nothing interesting was on TV, Ned was already on a flight out of town for vacation, and he couldn't even go out as Spider-Man.

Peter scrolled aimlessly through his social media feed for what felt like the 1000th time, even though nothing new had been posted since the last time he checked. He glanced up at the TV just in time to see a commercial playing with a terribly animated Iron Man flying across the screen.

He wondered what Tony was up to. And why he was so insistent on Peter not coming over today. His first thought was of Christmas. Maybe he was working on a gift and didn't want Peter to see?

No. Tony would never give him a gift. He's already given him so much in this short year of knowing the man. Even if he tried to give Peter something, he'd refuse it.

Peter glanced at the clock. It was only a few minutes after 6pm. If he took the subway into town he could be at the Tower before 7. Surely Tony would understand that he was bored out of his mind from being left alone all day.

Yeah, screw it.

Peter just about threw himself off the couch as he reached forward to turn the TV off. As he headed towards the door, his stomach rumbled. His fast metabolism sure was a pain sometimes.

He decided he'd just take some spaghetti to go. He could warm it up once he got to the Tower. And he'd bring enough for Tony, too.

He threw the container of spaghetti into his backpack and slipped his shoes on. As he reached for the door he spied a notepad on their small front door table. He better leave May a note. Last time he left without saying anything didn't end well.

_May, _

_Got bored. Went to the Tower. Text me if you need anything. _

_Love,_

_Peter_

He made sure to leave the note in a place May would see it right away, and with that, he was out the door.

The route to the Tower was something Peter had down to a science. He knew the quickest way there on foot and by web. If it wasn't currently snowing, he'd be swinging all the way there.

Unfortunately for him, it looked like a storm was hitting. He pulled his scarf further up his face in an attempt to keep his nose and mouth warm. Frozen flakes stuck to his eyelashes and he had to forcefully blink them away every couple minutes. His hands were shoved deep in his pants pockets; he forgot his gloves. This storm wasn't something he anticipated, and he was glad he was almost to the Tower.

The beautiful building finally entered his view. He craned his neck to get a glimpse of the famous _A_ stuck to the side of the building. The Avengers themselves haven't lived in the Tower since the accords, but there was no point in changing the sign, according to Mr. Stark anyway.

A stray snowflake found its way down Peter's hoodie and a chill shot down his spine.

He wasted no more time reaching the front doors. As soon as they opened and Peter stepped foot inside, he was greeted with what felt like a warm hug. Mr. Stark knew to keep the heat up for the winter.

The receptionist recognized Peter right away and opened the small barricade that was blocking the private elevator. "Good to see you, Peter!"

"Good to see you too, Alyce," Peter replied with a soft smile as he walked up to the doors. The metal doors slid open and Peter stepped in before the receptionist could say anything more.

Although the door closed, the elevator hadn't moved.

"FRIDAY?"

"Mr. Stark has requested no visitors today."

"What?" Peter asked, dumbfounded.

After a brief pause, FRIDAY's oddly human voice filled the elevator again. "All access to Mr. Stark's personal floor is currently prohibited."

Peter scratched his head in thought. This was getting weird. It wasn't like Mr. Stark to block everyone out.

"Well, FRIDAY," he looked up with a smirk. "In case you haven't seen, there's a snowstorm outside and I have no way home. Might as well let me up so I can share this spaghetti I bought for Mr. Stark."

The elevator once again went quiet, as if the AI was pondering the offer from Peter.

The metal doors flying open was not what Peter expected to happen.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Parker. You're welcome to access the rest of the Tower, but Mr. Stark made it clear on his no visitor policy today."

Peter sighed and took a small step towards the doors. "If you say so FRIDAY. I guess I'll just have to use the roof entrance. That is, _if _I can make it to the roof in this storm."

Silence filled the elevator as Peter continued taking small steps towards the doors. This wasn't his first rodeo attempting to beat the system and get by FRIDAY's protocols. She always gave in once it came to his safety. He discovered the loop hole completely by accident one day when he was trying to access something in Mr. Stark's lab and she wasn't allowing him to, so he joked, "shoot me, it would hurt less," and he was granted immediate access.

The metal doors once again slammed shut and Peter had to jump back slightly to avoid getting squished. "Fine, Mr. Parker. You've brought this upon yourself," FRIDAY said, almost harshly—if Peter would try to put an emotion behind it.

He tried to question her, to find out exactly what she meant, but she didn't say another word for the duration of the ride.

Peter stepped out of the elevator and stopped.

It was dark.

Mr. Stark never had the lights off in the lounge. An advantage of using his own arc reactor to power the tower meant he could use all the electricity he wanted. And he rarely turned the lights off since he rarely slept to begin with.

Peter cautiously took another step further into the dark room, and that's when he spotted it. The empty bottle of what Peter could only assume was some kind of whiskey, laying on its side on the counter.

It wasn't like Mr. Stark to drink excessively anymore. Peter never knew him when he did, however, he knew just how careful he always is around alcohol. A couple drinks here and there, special occasions usually, but he always knew to hold himself back.

And that was something he was proud of. There aren't many things in his life that Mr. Stark admits he's proud of. The first being Peter, and the second being how far he's come with his alcohol problem.

Peter was worried now. He didn't know how long Mr. Stark had been by himself up here, or how much he's actually had to drink.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter called out as he glanced around the lounge. He cursed. He wasn't in here. He had to be somewhere here. FRIDAY would never let him leave knowing he's intoxicated.

Peter pulled his phone out of his pocket to use the flashlight to help navigate him around the disheveled lounge. He hadn't noticed before, but it looked as if a tornado blew through the place.

As Peter tapped the flashlight button, he checked the time, and for what felt like the first time all day, he checked the date.

He just about dropped his phone in realization. God, he was an idiot. He should've known. He should've caught on from the first time Mr. Stark told him he couldn't come over on Friday, when Friday's are _always_ tower days.

December 16th.

The anniversary of his parent's deaths.

Peter knew this year had to be even harder for Mr. Stark.

Not long after the airport battle in Germany, the video of the Winter Soldier killing Mr. Stark's parents was released online for the public to see.

Peter had wanted to say something to his mentor, about how he understands. How he knows the feeling of being alone. Of not having parents. But Peter's parents weren't murdered by one of his friends and then covered up. So he never mentioned it. He was too afraid bringing the topic up was a one way ticket out of Mr. Stark's life.

Peter shook his head to free himself from his rambling thoughts. It didn't matter how many times in the past he thought about asking Mr. Stark a million questions about his parents, or lack of. Right now he had to find Mr. Stark.

"FRIDAY? Where is he?" Peter called up to the ceiling as he headed towards the hallway where more rooms were.

"Mr. Stark has currently blocked my access to his workshop." The AI supplied without hesitation.

A drunk man in a room with access to every power tool known to man? What could go wrong?

"Thanks, FRIDAY," Peter quickly mumbled as he bounded down the stairs, at the end of the hall, 2 at a time.

Peter looked in the glass that separated the staircase from the workshop. Mr. Stark was nowhere in sight. However, a series of old Howard Stark videos were currently on loop on a TV in the corner of the workshop. A broken glass sat shattered just under the screen, liquid still dripping off the screen.

Peter gribbed the metal door handle and surprisingly pulled the door open.

And now that the door was open, Peter wished he didn't have enhanced hearing-or that Mr. Stark didn't play his music so loud.

His mentor probably wasn't aware he was in the building, let alone in the workshop.

FRIDAY said she was disabled in this room, so there was no one to alert Mr. Stark of Peter's arrival, and rock music was blasting so loud, there was no way he heard Peter calling out for him.

Now that Peter could see the entire workshop, his heart dropped. It was just as wrecked as the lounge. Papers were all over the floor, tools had been thrown around, chairs and even tables were currently on their side.

Peter jumped the second the music was shut off.

"What the hell?"

He jumped again as he turned to see Mr. Stark standing behind him, a half full bottle of who knows what in his hand.

He opened his mouth to say something, and embarrassingly, nothing came out. What were you supposed to say to your mentor who was mourning his dead parents and specifically requested to be alone but you just couldn't stay out so you broke into his place?

"How did you get in here?" He asked another question since the small boy in front of him seemed to be having trouble with his words.

Peter's mouth opened again and he froze in hesitation. "I.. uh.. well.. uh.. elevator?" He finally croaked out.

Mr. Stark seemed to process the information, and Peter took this opportunity to really study him. His hair stuck out in several directions, the robe he wore over his pajamas was barely hanging onto one of his shoulders, he was wearing only one slipper, red eyes and dried tear tracks down his cheeks were enough proof that he had been crying, but not that recently.

"Get out."

Peter shook himself free of his thoughts and quirked a brow at the statement. "I'm sorry?"

"I said," he paused to take a step forward, but leaned too far to the right and had to catch himself on a workshop bench, "Get. Out."

Peter had already instinctively stepped forward and reached out to help stabilize his mentor. "I know what today is, Mr. Stark. And I don't think you should be alone," Peter tried to explain.

Tony pulled himself free from Peter's grip on his shoulders. The mention of today seemed to set him off again, and Peter felt terrible for it.

"I don't need help from some _kid_," he spat before he turned and stormed off to the other end of the workshop, stopping every few steps to grab something to balance on.

Momentarily Mr. Stark's words cut deep. The two of them had grown so close over the past few months, and just the other week after another one of Peter's embarrassing breakdowns, Tony admitted just how much he meant to him. Peter had no choice but to push the words to the back of his mind and remember the context. Tony is intoxicated, and mourning. He just needs time.

"Mr. Stark, please! You were the one who told _me _that talking about it always helps.. So, please?" Peter called out as he followed in the direction Tony went. The workshop only had one exit, so there was no where for him to hide.

Peter rounded the last corner of the workshop and faltered at the sight of the bottle Tony was previously holding, sat upright in the middle of the floor. About a foot away from the bottle sat Mr. Stark. He was leaned back against a toolbox, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his face was buried deep in his hands.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter asked cautiously as he slowly lowered himself to the floor to be at Tony's level. "How can I help?"

Tony sat himself up and pulled his face from his hands without answering Peter. He wiped away the few tears that had fallen down his cheeks as he pushed himself up off the floor. He had to grab the edge of the toolbox as the room started spinning from him standing up too fast. "Just go back home, kid. You don't understand," he said without glancing back.

"January 22nd, 2016," Peter announced as he forced himself back into a standing position.

With a small, "Huh?" Tony turned himself around to look at the kid who was now staring down at the floor, fists clenched, and it appeared like he was holding back tears.

"January 22nd, 2016," Peter repeated without looking up. "I lost my uncle. The closest person I had to a father, was shot and killed in front of me." A few tears slipped down his cheeks, but he continued.

"I was there. I watched him die. I _felt _him take his last breath. I _felt_ his body go limp in my arms, so _don't _tell me I don't understand. 'Cause I do, alright?" Tears were streaming freely down his face now, but he refused to look up from that ever so interesting crack in the floor.

"I don't even know what happened to my parents. Did you know that? Just up and left one day. Don't know why, don't know where they went," Peter finally reached his hand up to his face to wipe away the tears that had found their way into his mouth. "You told me yourself, talking about it always helps, so this is me finally talking to you about it. Will you please do the same and talk to me instead of pushing me away?"

Silence grew between the pair as Tony leaned back against the toolbox, letting himself slide down the side to the floor. He tried his best to hold in the sob that escaped his lips as he leaned his head back against the toolbox, running his hand through his hair. Peter cautiously stepped to the side of Tony, allowing himself to slide down as well, keeping his gaze ahead of him.

"It was starting to get easier."

Peter turned his head slightly to glance at Tony when he finally spoke up. He didn't say anything, he simply nodded his head hoping Tony could see the action in his peripherals and understand it was okay to continue.

"Just last year I was able to make it through the day without a single drink, and this year…" he paused as his breath hitched in his throat, stifling a sob. "And- and this year, it's like I'm starting over. Back at.. Back at the bottom."

Tony reached his hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Until now… I only- I only imagined it. But _now, _the footage is playing on repeat in my head, and I can't get it-," he bent forward letting out another sob, "- I can't get it to stop. Every time I close my eyes, I see it… I see _him_… And I know I can't blame him, but I see it… His hand wrapped around- around my… around my mother's throat."

By now, tears were flowing down Tony's cheeks. He dug the palms of his hands into his eyes as he desperately sucked in breaths between sobs. He was at the point where he could no longer control his breath, and he choked on any air he inhaled. The sight broke Peter's heart. He'd never seen Tony like this. He'd never even imagined it was possible for Tony to be like this.

Peter reached forward, pulling Tony's hands away from his face. He was digging harder at his eyes now, and Peter was afraid he'd hurt himself. "Hey.. It's okay.. It's okay, Mr. Stark," Peter said quietly, trying his best to comfort him. Peter hoped he wouldn't be crossing a boundary, but he said screw it and he reached back over Tony, pulling him in for a hug. Tony stiffened at first, like he wasn't sure what to make of the situation, but he quickly relaxed and buried his head into Peter's shoulder as he continued to sob.

The pair sat together, crouched against the toolbox, with Peter rubbing circles on Tony's back as he spoke softly, waiting for him to calm down.

* * *

Peter wasn't sure how long it was before Tony had finally calmed down completely, but he leaned his head back against the toolbox once his breathing had even out.

Almost at the same time, Tony pulled himself away from Peter, rubbing vigorously at the dried tears on his face. "God.. I- I'm sorry-," he tried to apologize, but Peter didn't let him get that far.

"Don't, please, don't. It's okay, Mr. Stark. Really," Peter told him, turning his head to look over at him.

"You shouldn't have seen me like this," Tony sighed, cutting Peter off before he tried to say anything. "Just look at me. I'm a fucking mess. And I do need to apologize. For earlier. When I called you some kid, and that you wouldn't understand. I'm sorry."

Peter couldn't disagree with him. The state Tony was currently in was one Peter never expected to see. And one he didn't think he'd want to see for a long long time. "It's okay, Mr. Stark. Everyone has bad days. It's just about how we handle them… Like I said earlier, you told me that talking about things always helps. And if today is any indication, it really does. I think… I think we just need to talk more. About the bad things, of course, but we should talk about good things too."

"I agree. I couldn't have said it any better myself, kid. From now on we talk about everything. And on days like these, we spend them together. Being alone doesn't help." Tony said with a small smile, reaching his arm around Peter's shoulders to pull him into his side for another hug. "And I think with all the shit we've been through, it's time you call me Tony. No more Mr. Stark. You got it?"

A smile found its way onto Peter's face as he let out a laugh. "Alright… Tony.." he said as his smile widened.


End file.
